28-Aug-2000
Notes: This is for the wonderful and talented Hyuy. All she required was 4+5, and a snake.
Warning: Very mild suggestions... Angst
Quatre stared at his glass. Seven shots of vodka. His head buzzed, but it still hurt like hell. Duo had once said that alcohol was the perfect way to forget everything for a while, but the vodka provided none of the relief that Duo promised.
Quatre waved to the bartender to fill his glass again.
"Hey there." a man approached Quatre. There was a giant live snake wrapped around his neck, producing a menacing effect.
"I'm not interested," Quatre cut the man off. All night he had been fighting off the advances of numerous men and women. He would have left and gone home to drink, but he didn't want to be found.
This particular admirer was quite adamant, "Oh? You don't even know what I have to offer."
"I don't want any sex or drugs," Quatre's voice was uncharacteristically cold. All he wanted to do was forget. Just for a moment, he wanted the pain to end.
The man came closer and placed his large hand over Quatre's shoulder, "Why not, pretty boy? Got dumped by your boyfriend? I can make you forget."
"I already told you, I'm not interested," Quatre slapped the hand away. The buzzing was making him feel defiant somehow.
"Look Joey, the kid just wants his peace, okay?" The bartender came to Quatre's defense.
"And I just want some fun," the man grabbed Quatre's shirt and roughly pulled him closer.
"Let me go," Quatre commanded. His tone dangerously low.
"For God's sake, let the kid go, Joey!" The bartender exclaimed, "I don't want any trouble."
Joey, however, ignored the plead as he tried to draw Quatre closer for a kiss.
Before Joey knew what happened, he was flipped upside down, with his head bashed into the table. His snake slowly slithered away from Quatre, sensing the danger that Joey couldn't.
Quatre stared at the unconscious man on the table, and began to breathe very very hard. His mind was on fire. Everything burning inside him was threatening to boil over. He needed a moment of calm down. He needed to.
"You like playing rough, eh?" Several muscular men approached Quatre. Quatre saw the thirst for violence in their eyes. He knew his own eyes housed the same hunger.
"Look guys, take this outside!" The bartender pleaded.
Lady Une knocked on Wufei's door. She knew Wufei always worked late.
"Yes?" Wufei opened the door to his office surprised to have visitors this late.
"I just got a call from the police," Lady Une reported, "Normally, they would only call on us if they needed something big, but as it is. they arrested Quatre."
Wufei's eyes widened slightly.
"What is the charge?" Wufei asked as his mind struggled to absorb the information.
"He was in a fight at a bar."
"A bar fight?" Wufei's eyebrows leaped up.
Wufei stared Quatre through the glass. He could hardly recognize his former comrade. The blonde man's shirt was torn in several places, and the front of the shirt was soaked with blood.
Wufei eyed the young police officer questionably.
"He wouldn't let us treat him," the young police officer answered the accusation.
"Your friend sent three two hundred pound men to the hospital," the young officer's voice was incredulous.
Yes, Quatre was definitely capable of that. He was a trained terrorist after all. What Wufei could not imagine was what would cause the good nature Sandrock pilot to loss control like that.
"You have the papers to release him to my custody?"
"Yes, it's all in order," the officer examined a stack of papers, "He's all yours. He's pretty drunk."
"I can see that," Wufei said simply.
Wufei and Quatre drove in silence. Wufei did not ask Quatre where he wanted to go. It was obvious the blonde pilot should not be left alone. If nothing else, the nasty cut on his chest was still bleeding.
At last they arrived at Wufei's home.
"I'm sorry I bleed all over you car," Quatre apologized.
"You are accountable for more than that." Despite the words, Wufei's voice was not unkind.
Quatre said nothing as he followed Wufei into the apartment.
The inside of Wufei's apartment was decorated with various relics of Chinese culture. Calligraphy and Chinese water paintings lined the walls. One in particular caught Quatre's eye. It was a painting of a Chinese woman attacking a giant dragon with a long sword. There was something haunting about her.
"That's my wife," Wufei noticed Quatre's lingering glances.
"Wife?" Quatre turned sharply to Wufei.
"She died during the war," Wufei said simply.
Even though Wufei's voice carried no emotions, Quatre felt a pang of guilt and regret radiating from Wufei.
"Oh."
"Sit," Wufei ordered. Quatre didn't know when but Wufei had retrieved bandages and rubbing alcohol.
Obediently, Quatre sat on the sofa. He fought enough tonight.
With a gentleness Quatre would not have expected of Wufei, the Shenlong pilot slowly took off Quatre's blood stained shirt.
There was a deep cut running across Quatre's fine shaped chest. Wufei stared at it for a moment.
"One of the guys picked up a broken glass bottle," Quatre shrugged.
"This is going to hurt," Wufei warned as he dumped rubbing alcohol all over Quatre's chest. Quatre bit back a scream. Wufei's idea of mending a wound of was infinitely more painful than the wound itself. Quatre wondered if it was Wufei's way of telling him not to do it again.
"How did she die?" Quatre suddenly asked as Wufei begin to bandage the cut. He regretted the moment he asked.
Wufei did not reply for a moment.
"She died fighting for our colony," Wufei said slowly, "She died because I refused to fight." Wufei's eyes were focused on the painting on the wall.
"Do you miss her?" Quatre asked softly.
"Sometimes I miss her a little bit," Wufei stood up and walked towards the painting. His touched the long sword slightly.
"Other times, I miss her more." Wufei's face was turned away from Quatre.
"It wasn't your fault," Quatre's voice cracked.
"I know," Wufei's fingers traced the outlines of woman's face.
"I killed my mother," Quatre said suddenly.
Wufei turned around and faced him, "What?"
"I killed her," Quatre pulled out a golden locket from his pocket. Wufei came closer and looked into it.
Inside there was a picture of a young woman. Soft light blonde hair framed her delicate face like a hallow. Aquamarine eyes reflected the joys of life.
"She's an angel" Quatre whispered as he caressed the faded picture with callused hands.
"You look just like her," Wufei gasped.
"Iie! I look nothing like her. I am nothing but a shadow of an innocence that I can never reclaim. I am nothing but the stolen light of her reflection!" Quatre violently shook himself.
"How did she die?" Wufei asked. A night for secrets.
"I killed her when I was born," Quatre spit out his answer word by word, "Today's the eighteenth anniversary of her death."
"Quatre." Wufei began, but Quatre didn't let him finish.
"It should of been me, Wufei!" Quatre's eyes were full of tears, "It should have been me who died! She was an angel. She helped people. She loved peace! And yet she died instead of me! I have been a killer since the day I was born!"
Very carefully, Wufei gathered the young man in to his arms and let Quatre cry into his shirt.
"Every night when I go to sleep, I ask the gods out there, why Meiran died instead of me," Wufei gently rocked Quatre, "Every night I am answered with silence. In the end I painted the picture of her, so maybe she might answer me."
"Have you found your answer?" Quatre's voice was so low Wufei could hardly hear it.
"No, but I have had several dreams where Meiran wacks me," Wufei smiled slightly, "In Chinese stories the spirits of the dead communicate with the living through dreams. I know it's her way of telling me to forgive myself, and for me to move on."
"Your mother would want the same for you," Wufei whispered into Quatre's soft blonde hair.
"I miss her so much. I don't know how I can miss her when I never even knew her." Quatre's face was buried in Wufei's chest, his tears wetted Wufei's shirt.
Wufei could feel Quatre getting heavier in his arms. The Arabian was crying himself to sleep.
Very softly, Wufei begin to sing in Chinese.
"Wufei?"
"It's old Chinese song about the White Snake Goddess that my mother use to sing to me," Wufei answered and continued to sing.
Wufei's voice was low and soft, slowly luring Quatre to sleep.
When Wufei was sure the younger man was asleep, he picked him up and placed him on the bed. He began to walk to the couch, when Quatre whispered, "Can you stay with me?"
Wufei nodded as he walked back to the bed and laid himself next to Quatre.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
~owari??
I dunno, I might write more to this... shrug
(:./draco/losing)
